Stop That Daddy!
by Belen09
Summary: Malcolm is in Sickbay, with his daughter Madeline, when his husband, Captain Trip Tucker and Commander T'Pol walk in the unit.


Stop That Daddy!

Belen

Summary: Another Madeline T'Lin Reed Story – Aged five years old, Madeline tells her daddy, Malcolm Reed, that she doesn't like to be teased . . .

Pairing and Rating: Tucker/Reed, T'Pol/Reed, PG-13

Warning: Futurefic

Note: In answer to question this carries on from 'Surprise!' and 'Daddy, Why Is The Ocean Green?'

Malcolm looked up from the biobed he was sitting on in Sickbay, and noticed that both his husband, Captain Trip Tucker, and Commander T'Pol had entered the area. Neither of them looked happy, although Trip had politely let the science officer enter the unit before he did, so the man wasn't worried enough to go charging through the door at least.

They stopped about five feet from him; T'Pol had quickly seen that Madeline was asleep on a biobed, three spaces down, and then focused her attention back to him. Trip just looked at him with his arms crossed, in an unconscious (he hoped) imitation, of his favorite defensive posture. However it didn't bode well that he was frowning.

T'Pol broke the silence, just as Phlox came around the corner. "Malcolm", she stated, "I believe that you were to be with Madeline for the hours from twelve hundred hours to sixteen hundred hours – she was to be taking her nap at thirteen hundred hours. Please inform me why this did not occur, and why is she sleeping in Sickbay?" T'Pol did not mention the dried blood on Malcolm's uniform, nor the two black eyes that were rapidly making him look raccoon-like.

Trip put his arms down, and smiled. "Oh, do tell, commander . . . I would like to know why my Armory Chief, and Head of Security, not to mention my spouse, is under Dr. Phlox's care." He turned to the doctor, and continued his questions, "Phlox, it looks like he has a broken nose. Is that true?"

Before Phlox could speak, Malcolm broke in. "Gah, yes, I got a brok'n noze . . ." Then he shut up, unsure how to continue as T'Pol had looked again at their daughter, and back again at him. "Please explain, Malcolm."

Haltingly, as he was having trouble breathing, the Englishman began to speak.

He had read Madeline her favorite nap story, a tale about a very messy child who learned to be neat, and well-behaved (albeit with the aid of her stuffed animals), and had expected her lie down at her regular time; she usually slept for about an hour or so, then would waken to a light lunch, and some lessons – today was supposed to be mathematics.

He also liked to play some classical music for her, and ask her to guess what musical instruments were being used – It helped to focus her hearing on understanding individual sounds, and Malcolm tried to explain about the kind of music it was. It had been proved that skill in mathematics and appreciation for music went hand in hand.

At least that had been his plan for the afternoon . . .

"Daddy, I don't want to take my nap." Madeline announced solemnly, quickly looking at her daddy's face. The request didn't even cause him to pause arranging her bunk; he'd anticipated this as he remembered his sister going through this phase, and how his mother had handled the situation. Badly. He remembered crying, and his mother being stubborn; there had to be a better way of managing a young child – it was a natural progression in growing up.

"Madeline, you know if you get tired, you get 'cranky', luv. You need to sleep in the afternoon; at least for a little while." He smiled at his beautiful elfin daughter, who continued to look unconvinced.

"Daddy, I'm a big girl now. I don't need to sleep in the afternoon." She stated this as an absolute certainty, as though nothing would change her mind. Malcolm spotted a flash of determination in her face, and inwardly smiled. He remembered something his mother told him once, something at the time he thought impossible – 'Just wait, one day you'll have a child, just like you, Malcolm!'

Unlike his mother though, Malcolm believed in being flexible, he walked over to Madeline's rocking pony, (a gift from 'Uncle' Trip), and pretended to sit on it's saddle.

"Well, if you're a big girl, then you don't need to have Polly Pony anymore; big girls don't ride rocking ponies."

(At this point in the retelling – in Sickbay – Trip interjected, "You sat on her horsey! That was mean!"

"Ah dit not sit on her rock'n pony, Trip. It's not a horsey!" objected Malcolm. Phlox had managed to put the splint on his nose. "I was only fooling with her a bit."

T'Pol only said "Indeed.")

Then Madeline walked up to her father and said, "Stop that Daddy! Get off my pony!" She balled her fists, which at the time he thought was cute.

"Oh, no. I want to ride your pony. If you're going to be a big girl, then I get to play with your pony . . ." He grinned at his little whirlwind.

"Daddy, I'm really angry. Get off my pony! Big girls can ride ponies! Get off!" She made a motion toward him as if she was going to push him. Malcolm thought at that moment he would kiss her on her head and say that he was sorry, that he was fooling her, but that she did really need to take a nap.

The opportunity didn't come as she pulled back her arm and hit him, right on the point of his nose. It wasn't much of a blow, but it was perfectly placed, and he felt a sharp pain and a ripple effect on his face. He almost did sit on her pony; managed to stagger off to the side and shake his head. Bloody Hell!

Blood began to drip out of his nose, and his eyes welled with tears. That hurt! And he looked back at Madeline, who seemed stunned. "Daddy? Daddy, I hurt you!" She began to cry, sobbing, "Daddy! Daddy!" It was all he could to reach out to comfort her.

"Madeline, I'm fine. Let's go to Sickbay! Dr. Phlox will make me all better!"

They made their way down to Sickbay and Madeline finally got her nap.

Trip walked over to where Malcolm was sitting and gave him a careful hug; for once the smaller man didn't protest at the public display of affection. It had just been a rough afternoon and he liked a little attention.

T'Pol continued to look at the embarrassed armory officer, "Malcolm, I believe that we are going to have to teach Madeline that hitting is not the way to settle differences. This may be a learning experience."

Malcolm hunched his shoulders at that last comment. "Not just for Madeline, T'Pol. Not just for Madeline."


End file.
